


Anata Ni Shibara Rete Iru {Bound To You}

by lizanna



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Kiznaiver AU, Love, M/M, Set Five Years After The Anime, Slow Build, Slow Burn, You Don't Have To Watch It To Understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizanna/pseuds/lizanna
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki was ten when he first questioned the strange scar on his left forearm. Despite asking, no answers were given to him. Even his older sister Mari shied away from the topic whenever he brought it up. It was an odd mark, like lightning in a color tanner than his otherwise paler skin. The mark had been there for as long as he could remember, but it was only now that he found himself able to ask about it, the curiosity eating at his childish mind. Every day, his eyes drifted to the mark, tracing the mark with gentle fingers as he did so. One particular day while he was tracing it, it glowed a bluish white color, sending him into a panic on the floor of his bedroom. He kept a hand over his mouth as a sudden shock ran through him that started at the scar. It was a day he'd remember for the rest of his life because that was when the pain began. The day when fate was set in motion.





	1. Manaita No Ue No Koi {A Carp on a Cutting Board}

Yuuri Katsuki was ten when he first questioned the strange scar on his left forearm. Despite asking, no answers were given to him, even his older sister Mari shied away from the topic whenever he brought it up. It was an odd mark, like lightning in a color tanner than his otherwise paler skin. The mark had been there for as long as he could remember, but it was only now that he found himself able to ask about it, the curiosity eating at his childish mind. Every day, his eyes drifted to the mark, tracing the mark with gentle fingers as he did so. One particular day while he was tracing it, it glowed a bluish white color, sending him into a panic on the floor of his bedroom. He kept a hand over his mouth as a sudden shock ran through him that started at the scar. It was a day he'd remember for the rest of his life because that was when the pain began.

.

. . .

.

Now eighteen, Yuuri ran through Yu-Topia Katsuki with a tray in hand. It was an onsen his parents owned and ran since before they had Mari. That was a story he's heard over and over again but didn't mind hearing. That and all the stories of eccentric visitors that came and went along the way. Yuuri was about to drop the food on his tray off at a table when a jolt of pain ran through his arm, effectively making the food crash to the floor. This happened occasionally since his ten-year-old self first experienced the pain the scar gave him. The pain was irregular, but so fast that it was forgotten as soon as it came. He never ignored it, though. For some odd reason, he felt like he shouldn't. Thus, remembering the feeling that shuddered through him with the pain. That was always different. This time, it was frustration. Yuuri crouched down to pick up the tray and pulled away his long-sleeve shirt to examine the scar. He almost felt frustrated himself for no reason at all.

"You okay, kid?" Some of the customers at the nearby table glanced over at him with inquisitive eyebrows.

Yuuri laughed awkwardly and picked up the scattered items faster, embarrassment flooding through him. "I'm fine. I'm very sorry about disturbing your meals." Flushing a bright red, Yuuri put the messy tray under his right arm and rushed off to the kitchen to clean it off.

"Another today?" Hiroko, his loving mother, stopped working on another dish for a customer to glance at the tray Yuuri was furiously scrubbing. "Is there something wrong?" She looked genuinely worried for him.

"I'm sorry." The embarrassment and shame grew bigger in him at the thought of making his mother worry. "I'm just clumsy." Yuuri stacked the tray with the others and took the two new dishes of katsudon from his mother, wary enough to balance them on his right hand instead this time. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Yuuri, you can tell me anything. Right?" Hiroko stopped him as he was halfway out the doorway into the main dining hall.

"Of course." Yuuri sent her a shaky smile over his shoulder, rushing out into the room to hand off the dishes.

It's at this age that he's come to terms with the pain the scar brought, hiding it away through long-sleeves and cardigans. It wasn't that he was ashamed of the mark or anything. He just didn't like others fretting over him or asking questions. Questions he didn't know how to answer himself. Hiding it was easier for everyone, he figured.

Dropping the food off along with apologies, he then headed up to the counter leading to the kitchen ready to take the next order. His mother paused with the new tray in her hands, the concern still apparent on her features. "Why don't you just head over to the rink to talk with your friends? We can handle the rest of the evening, so don't worry about it."

His mother is too caring towards him. He feels like it's a blessing he doesn't deserve most days. "Are you sure? It would be easier if I-"

"Go. We'll ask Mari if we need anymore help. Don't worry."

He should've said that to her. "Thank you." He slid the apron off from around his neck and undid the ribbon tied around his waist, hanging it on a rack. He grabbed his bag of skates near the entrance of the restaurant after sliding his shoes on and rushed out of the building.

The Ice Castle was a business owned by the Nishigori family. Yuuko, the only real friend he felt he had, regularly worked behind the counter there after quitting skating lessons right after Yuuri had at fifteen. He had joined her in taking classes there when they were younger, quitting around the age of fourteen when his scar first started glowing almost regularly. It scared him to think that others on the ice would be able to see it, so he stopped the teasing before it even happened.

After jogging up the steps to the rink, he walked through the sliding doors with a slight pant to his breath. Yuuko immediately perked up when he stepped up to the counter to pay. "Yuuri! I'm glad you came! You can just go in, although there is a session going on right now. Feel free to just hang around before they get off the ice!"

"Thanks, Yuuko." He smiled at her before walking over to one of the blue benches to put his skates on.

She pouted as she leaned against the counter. "Yuu-chan, not Yuuko. You used to call me that all the time, or did you get too cool for me already?" She laughed as he huffed, pausing on the laces of his right skate.

"You know that isn't true." He looped the laces through the last hook and reached for the left skate to put on.

She laughed again. "Yuuri, you need to stop selling yourself short. How could no one find the mysteriously lonely male skater at Ice Castle cool?"

"You know no one thinks that." Yuuri rolls his eyes, smile threatening to break free as he tightened the laces on his left and stood up on the skate guards. "I don't even skate here that often anymore, and I'm not that good." He never competed when he was younger because of his fear of the crowds.

"We could've become the best ice dancers around. Imagine going to the Olympics. Maybe even meeting Viktor Nikiforov backstage, who would praise our abilities and ask us for opinions on his next programs." She giggled at the thought and grinned when Yuuri turned a shade of pink.

"Or you could've became the best singles skater and met him yourself. It would've been possible." He shrugged pointedly, trying to forget the image of meeting Viktor Nikiforov in person.

Viktor Nikiforov was currently a twenty-one year-old Russian male figure skater and ranked #1 in the world of figure skating. He was considered the best at the very age of seventeen when he had won his first ever gold medal in the Seniors division after winning every Junior competition possible for three years. Yuuko had introduced Yuuri to him at the age of thirteen. It was the only reason he didn't quit skating right away, giving himself a year to hopefully get over his fear and continue on to hopefully skate on the same ice as Viktor someday. That shattered the very next year.

"It was more fun with you around. I really wish you didn't quit."

"I wish you didn't either. I liked watching you skate." He blushed deeper when Yuuko laughed.

"I didn't like it as much as I thought I did. Teaching the younger kids is fun, though." She taught the younger kids during the morning if there was a session and if she was able to. "Speaking of which, the older group looks like they're done, and Takeshi is running the Zamboni, if you want to go ahead. I know how much you like having the resurfaced ice to yourself." She smiled softly as he nodded.

Takeshi was the same age as Yuuri, and both his and Yuuko's friend. Like Yuuri, Takeshi had grown to have a crush on Yuuko, but he made it more obvious with the hope of sticking around her for a while. Yuuri gave up immediately when Takeshi told him about his crush. He was grateful he had because now the two were dating.

He pushed open the swinging doors of the rink and headed over to open the gate and take his skate guards off once he saw Takeshi drive the Zamboni off the ice. As he slid across the freshly surfaced ice, he let his mind drift off. All his needless worrying and anxiousness fell away as he glided around the ice lazily, picking up speed gradually. He may have stopped taking lessons years ago, but he always came to skate when he had the time to. It cleared his mind when he needed to the most. He even gathered up the courage to learn a few harder jumps and tricks than the ones he knew how to do as a kid, his favorite jump being the triple axel, and his favorite footwork being the spread eagle or Ina Bauer.

As he floated along the surface of the ice, his memories fell back to the time Yuuko had first introduced him to Viktor. It was after one of their lessons, and Yuuko had turned the small TV on the wall in the entrance of the rink. She sat him down and told him to watch the screen as Viktor was about to skate. It was Viktor's second to last Junior Grand Prix Final, and he was set to skate his short program. As soon as he started, Yuuri found himself unable to look away, entranced immediately in his skating. Once Yuuko had gotten Yuuri hooked, they had started learning pieces from Viktor's routines, mimicking his skating in their freetime. Despite that being years ago, they still sat together to watch him skate whenever he was at a new competition.

Smiling fondly at the memory, Yuuri set himself up before launching into a double axel. Landing it gracefully, he continued to push himself into easy footwork, enjoying the simplicity of it. He got so lost into what he was doing that he almost missed the small voice trying to talk to him. Throwing the ice into flurry, Yuuri stopped and located the sound of the voice at the rink wall. He pushed himself up to it, facing a boy who looked like he was about eleven.

"That was so cool! You  _must_ compete! I bet you do really well, too!" The kid was bouncing from where he was standing as he spoke.

Yuuri scratched his cheek with his index finger nervously. "Actually, I don't..."

"What?! You  _have_ to teach me how to do that then! I can only land a single." The kid pouted. "My coach said I could pull it off if I practice hard enough, but I can't land it at all. It's the only double jump that I can't land. Can you please teach me?" His bright brown eyes bore into Yuuri's own.

Yuuri skated backwards slightly, feeling overwhelmed at the kid's presence. "I don't know. I'm not that good. You'd be better off with your coach teaching you."

Even though he was given a no, the kid continued to pout with his eyes still trained on Yuuri, hoping to get a yes from him one way or another.

"Alright. I can try, but I don't know how great of a coach I'll be..."

"Thank you so much!" The kid hobbled over to the bench beside the rink and took his skate guards off, placing them on the wall next to Yuuri's. "I'm Kenjirou Minami by the way!" He was back to bouncing on his skates as Yuuri slid over to meet him.

"I'm Yuuri Katsuki." He halfheartedly smiled, his anxious mind already flying in a hundred different directions as the kid joined him on the ice.

"Nice to meet you, Yuuri! So how do you land it so easily?!" He skated up to Yuuri, who slid backwards on the ice to put some distance between them.

"Well..."

Yuuri began to tell him what he did and demonstrated the move, gesturing for the kid to try to land it himself. He spent the next thirty minutes showing Kenjirou the move and what to do differently. It was as Yuuri went to demonstrate again when the pain struck him hard, his body sliding along the ice as he fell out of the land. Kenjirou skated fast to him, asking if he was okay. Yuuri looked down at his left arm, the sting and glow of the scar burning more than the fall had. He quickly got up, faltering a little as he stood on his skates and glided to the exit. "I think we're done for the day." Kenjirou said nothing, following behind him silently.

That was three times today. It was never this frequent, Yuuri noted. If anything, two was the most he's ever felt in a day or even a week. Not three in a day. Never. He continued to stare at his arm as he put his skate guards back on and walked out to the main sitting room. Kenjirou stared at his retreating figure, confused as to what just occurred.

Yuuko saw him grumbling to himself as she helped out a customer get their rental skates for the public skating session that would start soon. She watched as he quickly threw his skates off and into his bag, making a break for the door. "Yuuri!" He never turned around, almost running out the sliding doors.

.

. . .

.

The beach was the first place he decided to go after leaving the rink. He hadn't meant to leave the rink so quickly, but his thoughts were circling around his scar and fast at that. He sat down on a rock by the shore of the beach, tossing his bag next to him on it. Usually it didn't bother him to experience the pain, instead accepting it as the inevitable rather than something he wished he could stop. That is, until now. Oddly enough, he found himself wishing he never had to experience the pain. That it only made him stand out more than skating and ballet did. The frustration he felt surprised himself.

He wondered briefly if Viktor Nikiforov ever had to deal with this and then laughed at the stupid thought. Viktor was perfect in every way possible. There was no way he ever hid a mark as ugly as Yuuri's underneath his many skating costumes and jackets. It was almost hilarious imagining the same mark marring Viktor. Even if it did exist on his skin, Yuuri bet he would've flaunted it in every way possible, probably designing a costume after it somehow.  _That_ he could picture, but it still seemed impossible.

Facing the shoreline, he then found himself thinking if the scar, the glowing, or the pain would ever go away. Would he still have it years from now, without ever knowing why? Would he ever meet someone with the same problem as him? Maybe there  _was_ someone who knew about it somewhere in the world. Even if there was, would he ever get to meet them? How would he even know?

"Yuuri?"

The sound of his name alarmed him out of his thoughts. Spinning around quickly, turning on the defensive he found Yuuko biting her lip as she leaned down with her arms tucked behind her back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Can I join you?" She pointed to the space beside him, Yuuri scooting over to give her room.

They sat in silence before Yuuko decided to break it. "I made Takeshi take my place. He wasn't very happy, but he let me leave." She smiled as she stared over the water like Yuuri was doing. "Wanna talk about what happened?"

He never actually told her about the scar, refusing to drag her of all people down with the knowledge of it. Yuuri brought his knees to his chest, contemplating if he should tell her about it as he placed his chin on his knees. "I don't know." He honestly didn't. There was the nagging thought that she would make fun of him, but then again he knew she wouldn't. She never mocked him for anything, always sticking by his side no matter what. She always defended him against Takeshi's sometimes brutal behavior or comments.

"That's fine." Yuuko spoke cheerfully as she turned to look at him instead. "You don't have to tell me."

Everyone was too nice towards him. First his mother and now Yuuko. His anxiety-ridden mind told him to distance himself from them, so he wouldn't burden them. The selfish side of him wanted to keep them nearby anyway. "Yuuko, I-" He gripped his left arm over the scar tightly, terrified of opening up to her.

"Really. You don't have to push yourself. I completely understand. I just wanted to check in with you. I don't expect anything from you." She placed her right hand on his shoulder gently.

"Thank you." He offered a smile back in return, shrinking into himself further. He didn't deserve their kindness at all, yet he was always on the receiving side of it. "I mean it. I'll tell you soon." Although he wasn't exactly sure when "soon" was. It seemed so far away in his mind, the distance adding a break in his words and tears to the corners of his eyes.

"Hey. It's no problem at all. I like being able to help you." She stood up, brushing herself off in case sand found its way on her. "I'm gonna head back. I know how much Takeshi hates working the counter, and you know how he gets." When Yuuri laughed, albeit quietly and closed off, she grinned regardless.

"Yeah. Thanks again." He waved as she ran off back towards the rink.

Yuuri sighed as he watched the waves lapse over each other again. He wondered why he had the scar, why he was chosen to carry it and what its purpose was. What was his purpose? Was he meant to deal with the scar and along with it, his never-ending anxiety-ridden thoughts? Was he cursed?

Yuuri lied down on the rocks, reaching his left hand up to the darkening sky. His shirt sleeve fell, revealing the mark and the way it twisted around his forearm. Why was he forced to carry this mark and the pain along with it? Was it really worth living with?

He sighed again as his hand slipped back to his side, giving in to his thoughts for the time being. He was tired of fighting them back.

.

. . .

.

"What gives? You've been silent for a day now." Mari was propped up against the doorframe of Yuuri's bedroom.

"I'm fine." He didn't bother looking up at her, instead continuing to flip through whatever social media he was on.

"Yuuri." Her tone was scolding, looking through the facade he put on. "You're forgetting that I know you. What's wrong?" She frowned as he shifted uncomfortably from his spot at his desk, not saying a word. "No one can help if you just close yourself off. You've tried that before." She hesitated by the door but didn't move an inch, knowing that Yuuri liked his personal space.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize either." Instead of going to him, she crossed the room towards his bed, sitting on the edge of it and eyeing the back of his head. "Just tell me what's wrong." She spoke softer this time.

Yuuri spun around in the office chair he was in, gauging her expression before speaking. "It's... about the scar." He kept it at that, watching as a look of understanding crossed her face. Still, she said nothing, letting him speak. "How come I'm the only one with it?  _What is it?_ Why do I have it?" He glanced down at his arm as he spoke, rubbing the scar through the shirt he wore. "Why do I have to bear this pain?"

Mari took a deep breath, standing to close the door before she sat back down again. "I only know what I overheard at the time. I can't tell you anything else, little bro." She tested his reaction before continuing. "Someone talked to mom and dad when you were first born and asked them if they could use you. I don't know what she meant, and when I asked, dad left the room with me. Next time I saw you, you had that and it glowed. The first time it glowed, it stayed like that for a few days. Mom and dad sheltered you at home for a bit before it healed. I asked her why it glowed like that, and she mentioned something like you were special. I wasn't buying it, though. I know as much as you otherwise. Sorry, kiddo. That's all I know."

Yuuri uncovered his arm and grazed fingertips along it. "So only mom knows..." She didn't want to tell him anything, though, so there was no way to find out anything else. Dead ends. That's all he was ever met with. "Thanks, Mari."

"No problem. Whatever it is, I'll help you deal with it. Got it? Just tell me. We'll handle it together." She stood up, ruffled his hair and stood in the doorway with her back turned. "Oh, Viktor's doing some interview on the TV downstairs if you want to watch. Your ballet teacher is gushing over him. I don't get what people see in him."

"He's a genius when it comes to skating. Minako is downstairs?"

"Yeah, she is. Something about an early birthday gift for you. You might want to head down." She left with a wave of her hand.

Yuuri bit his lip and abandoned his phone on his desk as he left his room, bounding down the stairs in Mari's wake. Walking into the main dining room, just as Mari had said, Minako had a bottle of sake set in front of her while gazing at the screen in front of her. Sure enough, Viktor was shown on it, most likely after one of his events, since he was wearing his signature red and white Russian Skating Federation jacket and his bangs were askew on his face.

"Minako?"

She turned at the sound of her name and jumped up to hug Yuuri. "Yuuri! I'm so glad I got to see you! You need to come to the studio more often. I don't have any students who show the same enthusiasm as you do. It's so boring." Minako pouted, dragging him over to where she was seated. "Join me for a drink!"

"No thanks, Minako. You know I don't drink."

She frowned and pulled him down to sit anyway. "You're at least joining me to watch Viktor's interview anyway. You can't refuse." She jabbed a fingernail into his shoulder.

"I give in." Yuuri smiled and moved to sit in a more comfortable position. "Why are you here?" he asked just a little more bluntly than he meant to.

"I can't just pop in to visit you?" She rose an eyebrow at him before cracking. "So there is a reason. You're turning nineteen soon, and I felt bad that I'm never usually here to celebrate. You'll also be leaving for college soon, so I might as well give your gift to you now."

"Minako, I know you're busy. My birthday isn't that big of a deal any-"

"Don't even go there. As I was saying," she faced him with an envelope in hand, "I felt bad, so I got you an early gift. You're birthday isn't for another three months, but trust me. It's early for a reason. Here. Open it." Minako thrust the envelope into his hands.

Confused, Yuuri took the envelope, eyeing his name in her script on the front. "Thank you, but you didn't-"

"Yes, now less talking and more opening." She pushed the envelope towards his chest eagerly.

He flipped the paper over and tore at the seal. Opening the flap, he took out a badge. Flipping it over, he carefully read what it said. "Minako, this is... Are you serious?" Yuuri flipped the badge over, on the brink of malfunctioning because of the words written on it.

"Of course. I already talked it over with your parents. I'll be going with you, so you won't be completely alone to ooze over Viktor." She grinned as his brightened into a smile, pulling her into a tight hug before releasing her.

"Thank you so much! This is for the final, too! How'd you manage to get this?" The badge was an all-event pass for the Grand Prix Final that year held in Quebec City, Canada. The all-event pass meant he had access to all the official practices as well as all the competitions as well. Besides local events, he was never able to go to a real competition and  _see_ Viktor Nikiforov skate in person. It was too much money to even bother saving up for himself. If anything, it was a dream. Now, it was a dream come true.

"I have my ways. You have a passport already, so we don't have to worry about that. We'll start planning the trip for the end of November, around your birthday. Don't worry about anything else. I'm going to deal with the flights and hotel with your parents. You'll get to see Viktor skate now." She beamed with pride as he almost broke down into tears at the pass in his hands.

"Minako, I can't thank you enough. This is  _incredible!_ " He hugged her one last time before ogling the pass in his hands again. He'll get to see Viktor skate. He  _really_ get to see Viktor -  _the_ Viktor Nikiforov -  _skate_ _in person._ Breathing was almost difficult because he couldn't believe it. This was really going to happen.

.

. . .

.

And just a short month later, Yuuri was at the Fukuoka Airport saying his goodbyes to his family and friends. He was leaving for college in Detroit. It wasn't a decision he was sure of until his family encouraged him to take the leap. Yuuri abandoned his luggage and hugged his parents with words of goodbye and reassurance that he'll come home soon. When he let go and stood in front of Mari, she smiled and put a hand on her hip.

"Have fun, little bro."

They were too proud to hug each other. That's how it's been since Yuuri was old enough to make decisions for himself, not that he ever really made them.

"Be sure to help mom and dad." He smiled sadly back.

"Always do."

With that, Yuuri took a deep breath and turned to Takeshi and Yuuko. He hadn't expected them to come, but they showed up at the onsen at the last minute asking to come. Yuuko pulled him into a hug with tears in her eyes.

"Make sure you call me. I want to hear about all the fun you're having while you're away." She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter, afraid of letting go. "If you ever need anything, we're all ready to help no matter how small the problem is. Got it? I'll even help give you ideas of how to scare your roommate away if he's terrible or annoying." Yuuko laughed as she let go.

Yuuri laughed along but was cut off as Takeshi roughly pat him on the back, letting one of his arms hang around his shoulders. "Don't even think of ditching us and staying there forever."

"I wouldn't." Strangely enough, Yuuri found himself missing his friend's behavior already. Familiarity was always easy for him.

At the call for his flight, he left them with one last wave of his hand and grabbed his luggage, heading down to the terminal he needed to be at.

Within an hour, he was seated on the flight, anxiously playing with the end of his t-shirt while trying to fight back the nerves in his stomach. He could get off. He could just get off right- No. He had to do this. His parents had paid for everything and getting off now would inconvenience everyone. Yuuri nodded to the two passengers who sat down beside him, seeming to get right to business on their laptops and exchanging formal Japanese back and forth. Yuuri sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day and looked out the window as the plane began to move. It was his first time on a plane, and he was already tired.

When he woke up, the man next to him was nudging him awake. Apparently they had landed, and everyone was filing out of the plane. He grabbed his luggage from the overhead bin and wheeled it behind as he got off. The airport wasn't anything special, if anything less appealing that Fukuoka had been. The lack of his native tongue was what startled him first. He was taught English since he was little, so reading it wasn't an issue. It was just surprising to see it everywhere, compared to the snippets he saw at home. Feeling overwhelmed, he followed the signs to customs. By the time he was able to leave, it was almost bright outside. Flagging down a taxi, Yuuri exhaled in relief when one pulled to a stop in front of him. He threw his luggage into the trunk and sank into the backseat. He rambled off the directions to the college to the taxi driver, praying he was coherent enough for the man to understand him.

Yuuri gazed out the window, watching as the lights on the streets passed in a blur. The sound of the radio was the only thing that kept him up as he fought the urge to collapse back into sleep. Once the taxi driver dropped him off, Yuuri grabbed his luggage and made his way to the admissions office to get his room number.

After searching the entire campus for the dorms he was staying at, Yuuri finally found the building and his room, collapsing onto the bare mattress in his room.

"Tired much?"

Yuuri startled at the noise and backed up into the wall his bed lined. Wide-eyed, he stared at the person sitting opposite of him on the other bed in the room. Yuuri was so tired that he didn't even notice the other who must be his roommate.

"You must be Yuuri Katsuki. I'm Phichit Chulanont!" The teen smiled brightly and sat up cross-legged on his made bed. He was a lot tanner than Yuuri was with black hair that was set in a fringe that almost touched his dark grey eyes.

Yuuri could only stare at him as he tried to calm his erratic heartbeat.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled as he swung his legs over the side of his bed. "But I didn't want you to scream when you saw me in the morning."

"Fair point." Yuuri relaxed and centered himself on his bed. "Nice to meet you, Phichit."

"Nice to meet you too, Yuuri! I know you're probably tired, but I have a quick question."

Yuuri quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Movies or books?"

"Uhh... I prefer movies, but I like reading if I have freetime."

"Perfect! We're going to be great friends then!"

Yuuri's smile matched Phichit's as they shook hands. He had a good feeling about this.

.

. . .

.

"Hey, Yuuri. The love of your life made it to the Final." Phichit grinned at Yuuri from where he was hanging upside down over the edge of his bed. It's been two months since Yuuri first moved in, and the duo became fast friends ever since. They spent most of their time together, and Yuuri found him incredibly easy to talk to.

Yuuri rolled his eyes, scribbling in the answer to the calculus homework that was due tomorrow. "I already knew Viktor was going to make it to the Final, and don't call him that."

Like Yuuri, he discovered that Phichit held a love for figure skating. He wondered if that was why they were thrown into a dorm together, not that he minded. Phichit was always following the skaters closely on social media, making sure to update Yuuri on everything that went on in their lives,  _especially_ Viktor's.

"I think everyone knew he was going to make it, and I'm not going to stop calling him that. You're going to see him next month, Yuuri! What if you come down the elevator in the hotel, and Viktor's just coming back from his early practice? You two meet and instantly fall in love. Or maybe he finds you in the audience right before he skates and gestures to you while he skates! You run down from the stands and jump at him after his performance. From then on, you two fall in love, start a life toge-"

"Phichit!" Yuuri turned scarlet as he launched a pillow over at his friend, making him fall off the bed.

"This means war, Yuuri Katsuki. Viktor can't save you now!"

His calculus homework is forgotten as Yuuri's thrown into an all-out pillow war with Phichit. It's only when Yuuri falls over laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes that they finally settle down on the floor of their dorm room.

"Seriously, though. If you meet him and fall in love, then I want him to post a photo on Instagram with credit to me in the caption. I also want to be tagged in it. Make sure he knows that." Phichit laughed again as Yuuri threw one last pillow at him.

"We both know that isn't happening. I'd be lucky if he even looks my way." Yuuri turned his attention to the wall behind his bed, where one photo of Viktor has made its way up. He didn't want to scare his potential roommate, so he only brought one with him, not really expecting to put it up in the first place.

"And what if he does?" Phichit followed his gaze to the poster, holding back his laughter.

"Then I'll probably just scream in his face, or I'll be too shocked to even breathe." Yuuri grinned and glanced over at his friend. "Jumping at him isn't going to be the first thing I think of doing."

"It would make a much better story than screaming your undying love for him in his face."

"I don't love him." Yuuri huffed, puffing his cheeks out. "I just respect him as a skater. Besides, he has everyone falling head over heels for him."

"Suuure, Yuuri. I believe you."

"No, you don't."

"Of course not."

Before Yuuri could say something, pain rain through his arm. Despite how happy he's been at college, the pain seemed to have no end, becoming more constant than before. For the most part, he's been able to ignore it and move on, but for the times like these, the pain lingers, more in his mind than in his body.

"Yuuri, what's that?"

Yuuri cringed when Phichit pointed to his arm in surprise. Of course Phichit hadn't missed the glow of blue. Yuuri's reaction seemed to only make Phichit more curious.

"It's uhh..." Yuuri bit into his lip, unsure of how to explain it or if he even wanted to. Not even Yuuko knew about the scar, and he knew her longer than he's known Phichit.

"Did it come from your arm?"

Yuuri realized he was holding his left forearm with his right hand, as if that could hide it. "Yes..."

Phichit's eyes blew wide at the sudden realization. "So that's natural?"

"I have to go back to calc. It's due tomorrow, and I don't want the teacher to get upset if I don't have it done." Hurriedly, Yuuri sat up and made his way back to his desk, while Phichit sat up on the floor.

"Yuuri?"

Yuuri cringed again, picking up his pencil and trying to focus back on the work before him.

"You seemed like you were in pain. Is whatever that was causing it?"

Even in the short time they've known each other, Phichit learned quickly about Yuuri's insecurities and anxieties. It's what made him so open and easy to talk to.

"I don't know..." That seemed like the only answer he was ever able to give someone if they asked about the scar. Yuuri sat sideways on the wooden chair and sucked in a breath. He was going to tell Phichit. He thought that maybe telling someone would help. Slowly, Yuuri rolled up the sleeve of his t-shirt to bare the scar to his friend.

"Whoa. How'd you get it? Why does it glow?" Phichit scooted closer to Yuuri, holding Yuuri's wrist in his hand and twisting his arm side to side to get a better view of the scar.

"I don't know. My mom won't tell me. I have a theory about the glow, but that's it. There's no one who can explain it to me."

Phichit didn't take his eyes off the mark as Yuuri spoke.

"Whenever it glows, pain shoots through me, but it's a different kind of pain. If that makes any sense." Yuuri dug his teeth into his bottom lip, waiting for Phichit to say something. Instead his friend let go of his arm and waited for him to continue. "It's more emotional than physical. I also think the scar is connected to someone. Something? I don't know, but I experience the same emotion that hits me."

"So you think someone experiences it the same time as you? Someone else has the same scar?"

"I think? Maybe? I'm just as lost as you." Yuuri rolled the sleeve back down and cradled it in his lap.

"Do you think Viktor has the scar, too?"

Yuuri smiled as he rolled his eyes. "There's no way."

"I'm changing the scenario that you two meet now. What if he's on the ice and falls on a jump, and while you're in the stands watching, both of your scars glow with his pain. He sees it but continues with his performance. After the show and winning his gold medal, he rushes to find you and you two fall in love."

" _The_ Viktor Nikiforov falling on a jump?" Yuuri rose an eyebrow at him.

"You never know. He did fall during his Exhibition performance last year at the World Team Trophy, and during his short program at Europeans."

"He slipped, and he was sick at Euros, so he has an excuse for falling out of the landing on his quad Loop." Yuuri crossed both arms across his chest as he stared pointedly at his friend, who leaned back on his hands.

"Do you have an excuse for everything just to back up how perfect Viktor Nikiforov is?"

"Depends on what you're saying about him."

"And you tell me you aren't in love with him." Phichit grinned at Yuuri, who blushed scarlet at the comment.

.

. . .

.

Tuesday, November 29th, 2001, Yuuri Katsuki woke up to his friend screaming "Happy Birthday" in his ear.

"Five more minutes..." Yuuri tugged the blankets over his head.

"Oh no, Yuuri. I'm afraid that can't happen. Besides, why would you want to stay here for five more minutes when you're going to Canada today?" Phichit grinned as his friend sat upright immediately, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Your ballet teacher is in the lobby waiting for you."

Yuuri bolted out of his head and hurriedly threw his clothes, reaching for his luggage as he rushed to the door. "Thank you, Phichit! I'll tell you about everything!"

Phichit yelled happy birthday one more time as Yuuri left.

As Phichit had said, Minako was in the lobby of his dorm building, legs crossed and flipping through one of the many magazines sitting on the table in front of her. "Minako!" He pulled her into a hug once she stood up to say hi to him. "I didn't think we were leaving for another week."

"I thought you'd enjoy a birthday surprise. Although I feel bad you'll be on a plane on your birthday. I remember you telling me how you hated the flight from Japan to here. Sorry about that, but I figured maybe you'd want more time in Quebec to go sight-seeing. I know I do." She smiled as he let her go.

"I don't mind at all. It's great to see you again, Minako. How's the studio doing?"

They talked as they made their way over to the rental car Minako borrowed, leaving the campus Yuuri's readily accepted as his home for the next four years. "I've been getting less students lately, but everyone who does come is dedicated."

"That sounds like the opposite problem you had the last time I asked."

"Mm. Don't you have worse things to worry about then how my studio is doing? How's Detroit been? Whenever you've FaceTimed us, you hardly talk about yourself."

Yuuri chuckled, gazing out the window of the passing scenery. "Detroit's been fun. Phichit is really nice, too."

"He seems like it."

From the car ride to the plane and then to the hotel, they talk about everything from Yuuri's classes and college experience so far to everything and everyone at Hasetsu while he's been gone. It's only been three months, but he felt homesick just hearing about his family and friends back home. As soon as they had arrived to the hotel, Minako immediately disappeared to find the bar. Deciding that he didn't want to stay in the room by himself, Yuuri left bundled up in his navy double-breasted coat and grey scarf wrapped around him.

The streets of Quebec City were cold to say the least. It had snowed the night before, and the snow crunched under his feet every step he took. He didn't really have a destination in mind when he decided to leave the room but found that walking down the almost vacant sidewalks was calming.

"Everyone wants to be special to someone..."

Yuuri startled at the all-too close voice by his ear, whipping his head around to where it was but finding nothing. He turned in every possible direction, looking for something that gave him a clue as to who the person was only to turn up short. Pulling the scarf up on his face, Yuuri turned around and walked faster back in the direction he came from. Telling himself that it was all in his head, he tried to slow his pace, but the fear of being in an unknown city and possibly followed loomed over his head. He muttered an apology as he accidently shoved past someone, ignoring them completely as he just wanted to get back.

The rest of his walk proved to be uneventful. Whoever it was that had said those few words to him hadn't tried to face him again. Yuuri felt safer as he exited the elevator on the floor his room was on and entered the room. Minako was already back in the room, unpacking her belongings into her set of drawers.

"I was wondering if you'd gotten lost. I was about to call you. Yuuri?"

"Hm?" He hadn't even realized he wasn't paying attention. His mind was still focused on the words someone had spoken to him earlier. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"Something on your mind?" She sat back on her heels, a shirt still in her hands.

"Uhh... Nothing. No, I'm fine."

She gave him a weird look before going back to what she was doing. "If you say so..."

Yuuri was nineteen when he got the first clues about the scar on his arm and the person in the battle with him.


	2. Слишком Много Вопросов   {Too Many Questions}

Viktor was eight when he was approached by someone who asked if he wanted to become closer to the people around him, and it was only when he was ten that he truly discovered what she had meant.

He should've been terrified of the blue glow coming from his arm, but he was fascinated by it. That was before the pain started. The first shock that rang through him was painful beyond belief, but once again, he wasn't afraid of it. Just amazed. The pain wasn't normal like if someone had pinched him. He found that it was more emotional and stung longer. The pain wasn't frequent at all, but when it did happen, he became intrigued with every sting.

When Viktor was twelve, he became involved in the world of figure skating.  _Deeply_ involved. As a kid, he had never gone skating, so his mother decided to bring him to the nearby rink for fun. With her help, he laced up the rental skates the rink offered and skidded along the smooth surface. He was wobbly at first, but it didn't last. Viktor quickly picked up the skills the sport required and was soon gliding along the surface like he had been doing it for a few years. Since that day, Mrs. Nikiforov brought him there whenever he asked.

One particular week, Viktor had just found out how to land a toe loop. He didn't land it very well, but for a kid who had just started, it was pretty impressive. Little did he know that a seasoned coach had started coming to that rink weekly to find new competition, and now had his eyes on the kid with shoulder-length platinum length hair.

Yakov Feltsman introduced himself to his mother, giving her a quick run-through of who he was and what he did and telling her how talented her son was. She told him that he was self-taught and found a love for the ice quickly, though it was almost expected since she used to be an ice dancer herself. Yakov then introduced himself to the young kid and offered the chance to work under him and become a skater that could represent all of Russia in international competitions. Viktor couldn't have been happier.

From that point on, Viktor gave his life to the ice, dedicating his heart and all his time just to practice.

.

. . .

.

Viktor was seventeen when the pain emanating from his scar took on harsher colors. With every shock, he realized that whoever was on the other end of the scar was troubled often. There were always the same emotions repeating themselves over and over again. It was disheartening for Viktor to know that someone experienced the same kind of pain day-in and day-out, and he wanted to know just who that person was. They felt like they needed a hug or maybe just a friend.

He was at practice one day, perfecting a new program for an upcoming season when a particularly sharp pain bled through his arm during a jump. He fell out of the landing, his hip connecting with the ice ungracefully.

"Vitya, if you paid attention for once, maybe that wouldn't have happened." Yakov was becoming sterner with Viktor, due to the new rebellious teen phase he was going through.

Viktor stood up and laughed, wincing when the movement reminded him how hard he had truly hit the surface. "I'm fine, Yakov. I just jumped into it wrong."

"I don't care what happened. Go get it checked out. If you don't, I'll cut you from the practice schedule next week."

"I'm going, I'm going." Viktor waved to him absentmindedly as he headed off to the corridor where he knew there was a medic on duty. There was usually always one there if a practice session was going on since Yakov cared more for his skaters than he let on. In speaking of the man, he followed Viktor down the wing, wanting to check that nothing more serious was wrong with his skater than he was letting on.

"I could just tell you if there's something wrong." Viktor threw the words over his shoulder and smirked when he heard Yakov mutter something under his breath.

"I'm not stupid, Vitya. You'd hide it from me if it was a more serious injury. I want to hear for myself that it's nothing. I'm not taking any chances with you." He replied back gruffly, arms crossed as he entered into the medical bay behind Viktor.

Viktor lied down on the exam table, and he showed the medical personnel where he had landed, leaving him to poke and prod at the area in question. Yakov gave Viktor smug glances whenever he winced or voiced his pain. It's when the medical personnel told Yakov he would be fine with slight bruising on the hip that Viktor turned the tides and started to send him smirks of his own. The doctor left them alone to talk, taking the exam paper with Viktor's newest injury out with him. The pain that shot through his arm seemed to be planned. As soon as the doctor left, his scar glowed brightly with the pain of the person on the other end. The sadness and confusion he began to think of as normal rang through him, less sharp than earlier but still noticeable.

 _Especially_ to Yakov.

Viktor had been keeping it as a secret from him.

_Oops._

"What was that?" Yakov stole glances at Viktor's arm, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Viktor had to prove that it was all in his head. "What? You mean the flash on my phone?" Viktor pretended to raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he could sell any story he wanted to on the ice, then this should be no different. Only problem was that Yakov could see through everything. It didn't help that this just  _had_ to be the one moment his phone was left in his skates bag with his jacket.

"Do I want to know?" Yakov did this sometimes. If Viktor wasn't adamant about telling him something and went out of his way to cover something up, then odds were that it wasn't something Yakov wanted to know. Unless he wanted heart palpitations, that is.

"Not really." Viktor grinned sheepishly and rubbed at the scar on his left arm.

"Will it affect your skating?" He crossed his arms and looked at Viktor sternly.

"I promise it won't." He could get used to it. He  _will_ get used to it. He'd been doing so well at covering it up when he skated before today.

"Good." With that, Yakov left Viktor alone in the examination room.

Viktor sighed in relief and lied down on the examination table, lifting his hand up to the ceiling and looking at his scar as the bright lights in the room seemed to make it look darker.

"Hmm... so you two aren't so different. Interesting."

Viktor sat upright on the bed, startled at the sudden voice. He relaxed a little when he saw who it was but had enough common sense to stay alert. "I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"Always expect me." The woman walked further into the room, her short cropped black hair and white lab coat swaying as she moved.

Viktor narrowed his eyes at her. When they first met, she had told Viktor that she wouldn't visit him unless she needed to. "Are you going to tell me their name now?" He held up the scar on his arm.

She glanced at the scar then back at his face. "No. That's for you to find yourself. That's how this works." She leaned against the doctor's table, her eyes not leaving his once.

"How very unfair of you, Ms. Urushibara. It's been nine years, and I still don't know anything about them. This system of yours isn't doing anything. Your words from back then still don't hold any meaning." Ms. Urushibara was the one who came to him and asked him if he wanted to become closer to people. Yet since that time, she's hardly given him any information about the odd scar on his arm other than the basics. That was it. He's been asking for years just who it was on the other end. She said she's only visited Viktor in person. The other kid wouldn't remember her, or so she said.

"Not yet. When the time is right you'll know. If we force things to go as they did before, then we'll get the same results. Results mean everything. Things are also a little more challenging than they were."

She's told him about what happened before. Not explicitly, but with enough information for him to figure it out. THe project was also kept under lock-and-key, so Googling it had come up with nothing. A group of teens were involved in the project like Viktor currently was, only they weren't asked to participate. They were thrown into it not knowing anything. She told him that newer scars resulted from it, that they would carry memories they didn't want with them forever. Overall, the project wasn't a complete failure, but the results from it weren't what they were expecting at all. Mutsumi Urushibara, who worked on this Kiznaiver project before, decided to rebuild it from the ground up. She told Viktor that she's changed everything, even those involved in it. Instead of a group, she wanted to focus the attention on two people. Viktor was one, but she refused to tell him who the other was.

"What do you mean more challenging?" Viktor leaned forward on the exam table, the paper he was sitting on crinkled loudly as he moved.

Ms. Urushibara shook her black locks. "I told you not yet. Why are teens so impatient?" She huffed the last part under her breath as she turned to leave the room. "I just came to check in on you."

There was more to it, Viktor wasn't stupid. "If you say so."

"As distrusting as ever I see. Not that I can fix that." She waved as she walked out the door.

It wasn't that he was distrusting. He just didn't know what to make of the project still. There was nothing to base his thoughts off of. All he had was the scar and the very real pain he's been feeling.

He was on his own despite knowing he was attached physically to someone else somewhere in the world.

.

. . .

.

As a twenty-one year-old, Viktor was getting more and more frustrated with the lack of new information regarding the other person.

"Chris, what should I make of this?" Viktor was lying down on a bench in the back area of the Shanghai Oriental Sports Center in Shanghai, China. The Cup of China was his first qualifying competition of the Grand Prix Series as well as his friend Chris's, who was sitting on the bench next to Viktor's.

"I don't know how to help you there. I wouldn't have even agreed to something as crazy as that."

Viktor told Chris about the project last year after a year of knowing him. They were leaving a practice season at an event together when the scar lit up. Viktor waited until they were in private before telling him all he knew about the scar and the project it symbolized. Chris couldn't believe it and was at a loss of words before finally claiming Viktor was crazy.

"I was  _eight._ It sounded cool to me. I didn't really know what she meant when she first talked to me about it." Viktor shrugged on the bench and put both arms under his head. "She's been following me around more often lately. Every time I ask why, she avoids to topic or walks away. There's something up. Something she's not telling me."

"Has she told you anything to begin with?" Chris asked pointedly as he stood up onto his skate guards, taking a quick glance at the screens in the room showing the ice. "Looks like they're done resurfacing the ice for us. We shouldn't make them wait for us to come." Chris grinned at his own joke, prompting a chuckle from Viktor as he stood up as well and stretched his limbs out.

Because Ms. Urushibara had decided to hang around more often during the off-season, Viktor felt compelled to be more aware of the scar. His SP costume was a black ensemble with long sleeves that could hide even the glow from scar. The top was cut almost all the way to his stomach and emblazoned all over with gems. The gems were fanned out more but gathered in clumps at his wrists, along the cut in the shirt, waist, and ankles. His FS costume wasn't much different in the aspect of long sleeves and dark colors, only the material that was used was thin enough to reveal the white-blue glow of the scar should it light up during his performance. His program  _was_ dedicated to the other person with the same scar after all. The jacket of the costume was a dark fabric that seemed to shimmer dark purple and black and wrapped asymmetrically around his waist. There were bands of gold wrapped around his biceps that matched the golden cuffs at his wrists. The collars of the jacket were flattened and lined with gold. The ascot that was tied around his neck was the same shimmery purple and black with gold lacing the ends of each ruffle.

He was currently wearing his FS costume with his red and white Russian Skating Federation jacket over it since it was the day of the Men's Singles Free Skate. Chris was competing as well, his own ensemble rather daring like always.

"Looks like we should go then." Viktor stalked off to the rinkside entrance with Chris by his side.

"Vitya, be careful." Chris looked genuinely concerned before splitting off to meet with his coach before Viktor could respond.

As he stepped onto the ice for his warm-up, Viktor slipped into simple movements for the time being. His mind drifted to the Kiznaiver project. It's probably not something he should be thinking of at this moment, but knowing Ms. Urushibara was there in the crowd wasn't dispelling the thoughts.

Chris skated past him, giving him a slap on the back. Viktor offered him a smile when he caught Chris's eyes.

When the warm-up had come to a close, Viktor skid to a stop and stepped off the ice, grabbing his skate guards off the rink wall as Yakov met up with him.

Yakov doesn't say much to him anymore before warm-ups and performances, instead saving them for scolding him afterwards. "You weren't paying attention at all. Do I need to ask?"

Viktor laughed as he led them to the prep area in the back. "You should." Not that he was sure he wanted to tell Yakov, but maybe he did. Maybe that was what he's been waiting for. Someone besides Chris to ask where he got the scar. Maybe Yakov would be able to give him some sort of advice.

Yet Yakov didn't ask. Instead he grunted and watched as Viktor got to work on stretching himself out and going through his program. He was last to go up, so all he had to do hang out until then. Despite it being his first event of the season, Viktor felt confident in his programs. His FS was about strength, and somehow he found himself tying it to the person with the matching scar to his own. When he had first decided on a theme, he tied it to coming back from an injury. While practicing for Worlds the previous season, he was frustrated with himself and kept practicing day after day, minutes bled into hours and Yakov had to yell at him to get off the ice during practice hours. He managed to pull out with a win but gave himself time off because it hurt to even stand on his right leg afterwards. He made sure  _no one_ knew about the injury besides Yakov and Chris. No point in having the media obsess over it.

But as the days grew longer and the pain in his arm became more frequent, he decided to change his program to be around the mysterious individual, who seemed to be in a lot of pain almost all the time. Not that the person even watched figure skating, since those odds were very low, but Viktor wanted to send them a message and skating was the only resource he knew he could pass it on through. He wanted to give them the strength to get through whatever it was they were dealing with. Viktor obviously hadn't told Yakov about the switch since he didn't know about the scar, but he felt that his coach knew that something had changed. Yakov never commented on it, and Viktor never entertained the thought.

He sighed when the skater before him was announced onto the ice, knowing that he would be up soon. Viktor took the earbuds out of his ears and handed them to Yakov as they started to make their way back to rinkside. Viktor watched on as the skater pushed himself through his program. It was hard watching skaters like the one that was up now perform. You just knew that they didn't have the stamina to go on for so long, so it was tough to watch them jump and know they wouldn't make it. Viktor cringed as the skater fell particularly hard on the last jump in his performance. That would leave a mark.

Their sport was cruel and unforgiving, but Viktor wouldn't want it any other way.

He shrugged out of his jacket, handing it to Yakov as the skater bowed to the audience. The audience nearby screamed his name as they saw his costume for the first time. It was one of his favorites so far, so he understood their reaction. After all, Viktor was pretty sure that's what he sounded like when he first saw it.

Viktor made the move look casual, rubbing his right arm up and down his left arm pretending to adjust the sleeves on his costume, but the move was to indirectly touch the scar one last time before going out on the ice.

 _This is for you_.

Viktor skated onto the ice, standing off to the side by the rink wall as the other skater moved to the Kiss & Cry. As he watched the screens for the score, Yakov pulled him from his thoughts.

"Just do what you always do. Your score shouldn't be any lower than that of Worlds."

Technically speaking, Yakov was right. His programs were more challenging this season than they were last, since one more of his jumps had been moved to the second half of his programs. It was difficult, even for Viktor. Practically speaking, what Yakov was asking was absurd. It was the first time he'd be running through his programs for a competition, so he should only be striving for cleanliness. But here Yakov was telling him to match his score from the World Championships. Not that Viktor didn't want that but still.

Viktor laughed as he looked away from the jumbotron with the mediocre scores written across it to his coach, his platinum bangs shaking as he did so. Yakov glared at him in response. Typical Yakov.

"It seems like I can't disappoint then." With a grin plastered on his face and the audience voicing their excitement, Viktor glided along the rink as the announcer spoker his name over the speakers.

He nodded in acknowledgement to the judges and waved to the crowds as he passed, soon going through small movements before making his way to the center of the ice.

With his right hand on his hip and left in the air in front of him, he settled into his starting position and took a deep breath.

When the music began, he sprung from his spot and began his program.

.

. . .

.

"It terrifies me how good you've been getting recently. Don't let these victories get to your head, though. I might just come from behind." Chris winked as he slung an arm around Viktor's shoulders.

Viktor won gold with a score that came dangerously close to his seasons best during the last season, winning him gold. Chris had won silver with a set of programs that seemed to melt the ice as he performed. Currently, the skaters were at the banquet the day after the free programs, sipping away at drinks and talking with sponsors and important people with the ISU. If Viktor was being honest, he didn't really care for these events anymore. They were all the same anyway. The only decent parts of them were getting to talk to the other skaters if they weren't busy and take photos here and there.

Viktor laughed as he took a sip from the champagne glass in his hands. "I would never count you out, Chris." It was true. Chris was already considered one of the best, along with Viktor of course. In fact, Chris was one of the only skaters Viktor even bothered to watch out for.

"You better not. I plan on taking gold in France in two weeks and standing at the top at the Final."

Viktor laughed again and settled a hand on his own hip. "We'll just have to see at the Final. I won't be the only skater there anyway. You never know who it could be." As much as Viktor wanted to win himself, he knew how unpredictable it could be. All it took was the start of a bad day sometimes, not that Viktor had really experienced that but it still happened to a few.

"Trust me. I do know."

Chris was about to comment further when Yakov appeared at his side and took Viktor away.

"You have a new sponsor. She wants to talk with you personally before signing anything. Play nice, got it?" Yakov whispering harshly was the same as him yelling Viktor found.

He saluted his coach and smiled. "Loud and clear." He let himself be dragged by Yakov as he greeted a crowd of sponsors, his eyes landing on the one person he had been wary of for the past few months.

Yakov directed him to her. "This is Ms. Urushibara from Kizuna Sports."

Plastering on a fake smile, Viktor shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Urushibara. I'm Viktor Nikiforov."

"As I've heard."

Yakov let them be, walking away to most likely talk with sponsors Viktor already had to ensure they would stick around.

"Why are you getting involved here? You said you wouldn't. Why are you here?" The words came out rudely, but Viktor smiled despite it, so no one became suspicious.

"I'm just making sure you stick around." She was dressed more professionally than the usual attire Viktor saw her in. She wore a pencil skirt that ran to her knees and a long-sleeve dress shirt that was tucked in. The color scheme was the same as usual though, sticking with black and white.

"You already know I will. Why are you here?" He glanced around the room to see if anyone was nearby listening in. That would be just as bad as them seeing Viktor angry.

"You need sponsorship. You're welcome." She swirled the golden liquid in her glass around before taking a sip.

"I don't need your money. What do you really want?" He spat the words at her, hoping for an answer more than anything. He didn't need her here. She said she wouldn't interfere with his skating. They agreed to that when Viktor was old enough to realize what he wanted.

"I already told you. I'm just making sure things go as they should. I'm keeping you skating."

"Why is me skating important all of a sudden?" He was confused now. His words held less of the bite they had to them just moments ago.

"You'll know eventually."

Again with the cryptic words. "Why won't you just tell me anything? I get that you don't want to ruin anything, but it's been  _years_. Don't you, I don't know, want to progress whatever it is I'm supposed to be a part of. Why haven't I met them already? Will I ever meet them? I want answers. I'm sick of you not telling me anything." Viktor leaned in, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"You like making me repeat myself." She sighed. As if she had a reason to do that. "Soon. You'll be grateful for all the years when the time comes." With a swing of her hair, she walked away from Viktor, seeming to disappear in the crowd of skaters, coaches, and sponsors.

"Dammit." He muttered, raking a hand through his bangs. He emptied the flute in his hands and tromped off to the drinks table in hopes of getting another glass to drown his impatience and agitation. "I'm not the  _desperate_ that I need your money from who-knows-where." He picked up a glass and shot back half of it in one go. He was going to need more of it if he was to get through the rest of the banquet.

.

. . .

.

Winning silver at his second event the Cup of Russia was about what he expected, but Yakov was already wearing him down for it, going off at him over sponsorships and how he didn't try hard enough. It wasn't that Viktor didn't care at the event. That was  _far_ from the truth. Viktor's mind was just occupied on what he considered to be more important matters.

Ms. Urushibara had let something slip, and she knew that Viktor figured it out. She had pulled him aside to talk before his short program, to ask if Viktor had any different experiences with the scar. When he replied no, she cursed under her breath and that's when the slip occurred.

She gave a name.

She also mentioned something about pushing things along with a little help. Although that could mean many different things, Viktor was sure it meant they would meet soon. Either that, or he was just desperate to see the other person.

Viktor was sure of two things.

1) The person's name attached to Viktor emotionally and physically was Yuuri.

2) Ms. Urushibara was going to get them to meet each other.

Even though he knew these two significant things, problems arose with both. Yuuri was a common name in plenty of countries, so there was almost no way to pinpoint exactly where he was. The other problem was that he didn't know when, where, or how they would meet. He was hardly sure that they were going to meet each other.

Ultimately, he became very distracted during the event, which must've been more obvious than he thought because Chris texted him right after the event ended. He had said that Viktor didn't look right when he skated onto the ice to perform, that he was definitely distracted. If that wasn't enough proof, Yakov still hadn't stopped yelling at him even as they boarded their flight to Canada, their last stop in the Grand Prix Series. Viktor's rinkmate Georgi would've joined them on their flight, but he hadn't qualified for the final, not gaining enough points in his two events to get there. Georgi lost big time in the Trophée Éric Bompard, the fifth event in the series, so he lost his chance.

Viktor would've liked the company. Maybe then Yakov would've tried to control his yelling.

"I'll just win gold here. No problem." He grinned at his coach, who seemed beyond unamused.

"Do what you have to do."

Yakov might seem harsh to outsiders who didn't know him, but Viktor knew better. Sure, he hadn't stopped yelling at him all day, but he did it because he cares. That was how Yakov showed it. Over the nine years Viktor has known him, he had learned quickly what Yakov was like and how he showed his support.

By the time they landed and walked out into the Quebec City terminal, it was pitch-black outside. Viktor wrapped his jacket tighter around himself, the cold seeping through regardless. In a way, it reminded him of Saint Petersburg in a sense. The snow and cold temperature making him miss it more than he thought he would. It hadn't been that long since he was back, but with all the skating events back to back, Viktor felt the homesickness hard.

"Let's get going."

Viktor silently followed Yakov down the almost abandoned terminal of the airport, taking the time to look around as they walked. It had been quite a few years since he was in Canada, having no real reason to go on his own and not being assigned anywhere in the country.

They split up at the hotel since they had their own rooms, leaving Viktor alone to explore. Viktor dropped his bags off at his room and decided to hit the streets. There was a week before the competition started up, so Viktor decided to scope out the arena. The hotel he was staying at was a ten-minute drive to the pavilion but an hour walk. Instead of taking a taxi like a normal, sleep-deprived person would have, Viktor decided to go for the walk. He thought that maybe the clear air would help clear his head.

He took to the streets in the exact same clothes he got off the plane in. Usually he would at least try to fix his appearances, but there was no way someone was up at this time that would recognize him. Or at least he hoped so.

The brisk air of the early morning whipped at Viktor's face as he walked along the sidewalks.

Quebec was pretty in the morning, he noted. The snow that lightly dusted the streets and trees reflected light from the sun as it rose over the horizon, almost painfully so. Through Google Maps, his walk was mostly along main streets, so it wasn't anything too exciting until he started walking down smaller scenic streets.

When he broke free from the line of white trees, he found himself in front of the stadium. Banners were hung on the side of the building by the entrance, advertising the Grand Prix Final in just eight days. It seemed like a long time, but practices started up in four days. It wasn't much time to relax, but it was better than his "time off" after the Cup of China. In actuality, Yakov made sure he left for Moscow immediately following the banquet and had him training a day later.

Viktor grimaced when he saw a figure standing by the door. "How do you always know where I am?"

Ms. Urushibara tapped her left arm. "I know where you are every second with a click of a button. I thought I'd meet you here."

"Fantastic." Viktor walked passed her, opening the doors to the rather large stadium. It wasn't the largest he had been in, but it was still nice.

"Everyone wants to be special to someone."

Viktor ignored her, instead continuing further into the pavilion.

"Everyone wishes to connect. Everyone wants to carve their scars into someone else."

He laughed humorlessly as he walked into the stadium part of the arena. The staff working on the ice and around the arena recognized him once they saw him and wished him luck as he passed. "What book did you rip that off from, or is that supposed to be ironic considering the situation I'm in?"

"I got it from someone who suffered more than they should've." Her lab coat flowed behind her as she stopped against the rink wall, leaning against it as she looked up at Viktor.

Viktor stopped in his footsteps, turning to the ice. "Let me guess. They were a part of the earlier stages of the Kiznaiver project. The group of kids you told me about."

"Correct. That hardly does her justice, though. She was so much more than the project. She essentially created it." Ms. Urushibara traced a nail along the rink wall, looking deep in thought as she must've been reminiscing about the memories.

"Give her my regards then." Viktor held up his left arm slightly. "I guess I owe her for this."

"I don't know if she'd liked that."

Viktor flicked his gaze to the woman behind him. "She's no longer involved?"

Ms. Urushibara shook her head. "Not anymore. I let her go from it after everything she had been through with the others. She needed to be free from it. It had consumed almost her entire life, and she deserved to live as a real teenager for once."

"Ah, I think I understand how she felt."

"No, you don't." Ms. Urushibara rose to her full height. "And you're not going to either."

"Is the reason why you want to change this system so much because of her?" Viktor quirked an eyebrow at her.

She closed her eyes briefly. "Yes. I don't want anyone to experience that, but I also want to fix this project for her sake. She wanted its success more than I did."

"I thought it was successful."

"It was, but it did more damage than we intended." She pressed her back against the rink wall. "The group involved in it are all still friends, some of them more than that. But you know the rest of the story. In the end, their success was overshadowed by her connection to one of the kids. In this case, I'm running this completely different. You have no idea who they are yet. I believe that it will make things more interesting along with the differences in personalities. You two may blend well."

"Considering what I've heard from what happened last time, I can only hope that we do." VIktor huffed and then plastered on a smile as he waved to a staff member passing by.

"Even if you don't, I still have high hopes." She pushed away from the barrier around the rink and began to walk away. "I have to prepare a few things, so I'll leave you here."

Viktor watched her walk away before turning to the ice. "I guess I really can't disappoint you now."

.

. . .

.

"Where have you been? Your practice has already started." Yakov crossed his arms and tapped his foot against the tiles in the prep area where Viktor was tying his skates.

Viktor got back to the hotel late last night and had overslept in the morning. By the time he woke up, he realized that it was past the time he had to meet Yakov at the rink. Viktor had skipped most of his morning routine just to rush to the rink and avoid a longer lecture than the one he would get if he took his time.

"I slept through my alarm this morning." Viktor finished tying off his last skate and stood up, jumping on them to make sure they were tied how he wanted them as he grinned at Yakov. "Time to get to work!"

Yakov followed closely behind as Viktor made his way to the rink, where some of the other skaters who were scheduled to practice had begun to work through elements in their programs. Viktor handed off his skate guards to Yakov and stepped out onto the ice.

"This is only your first practice of the week, so don't push it. I also don't recommend running through your program just yet. I already cut you from the list, so they won't play your music either. Keep it light. You don't get much time on the ice either. I recommend not wasting it."

Viktor nodded and pushed away from the wall. He was used to this kind of routine now, especially during Finals like this one. All the competing skaters were working on their programs, focusing intensely on what seemed to be mixes of footwork and jumps. Viktor flinched as one skater in particular wouldn't stop throwing himself into jumps and jump combinations. Surely the competitor was smarter than that. But that was what these kinds of competitions did to everyone. It scared them witless and forced them to act like they usually wouldn't. He's been down that road before, but it hasn't happened since his junior days. Maybe he was just used to it by now.

Viktor shook his head and got himself comfortable with the ice before trying to work through footwork, basic into more complex routines. Nothing that held any meaning.

"My coach told me the same thing."

Viktor whipped his head around until his eyes landed on Chris's signature smirk. "You could've given me a heart attack."

"Then you really would've seemed like the rest of the competition." His smirk grew as he motioned towards the other skaters in their practice group. "And to think these are the top contenders. My bet's on what's-his-face in the French jacket."

"Bet for what?" Viktor rose an eyebrow as his gaze flicked between Chris and the French skater.

"On who'll break under the pressure. Last year, it was the Italian skater. His excuse was  _golden_ when he talked to the press about it." Chris planted the heel of his right skate into the ice as Viktor laughed.

"It was his first senior level Grand Prix Final. Give the kid a break." In speaking of the Italian skater, it seemed like he managed to get to the final again this year. They watched on as his took his starting position to run through his program. They awkwardly laughed as the music for his program began to play, and the skater flew through his routine. According to what he had said when he released his choice of programs back in June, he was skating his love for his sister. Everyone thought it was sweet at first, until he mentioned in an interview just how serious he was. After that, it was uncomfortable for everyone to watch, including Viktor. Viktor tried...  _tried_... to find reason in it, but even he couldn't deny how odd it was.

Chris gave him a side glance before shrugging. "I should get back to work. Josef won't stop staring daggers into me. Yakov doesn't look too thrilled either." He chuckled.

"He never looks thrilled, so how is he any different from any other day? If you know something I don't, please share."

"I know you." He grinned and pushed off from where he was standing to skate along the outside of the rink.

Viktor watched idly before following in his tracks.

The practice was long and boring, at least to Viktor it was. Seeming to catch on to his mood, Chris joined him at the part of the barrier he was leaning against to take his skates off.

"Are you doing anything after this?"

Viktor hummed as he slipped his sneakers on. "Other than being babysat before tomorrow's practice? No, nothing in particular. Got something in mind?"

"How about we go out for a few drinks?"

Viktor snorted as he shoved his skates into his duffel bag. "You really think Yakov would let me? And drinking? You're only nineteen, Chris."

"Ah," Chris waggled a finger in front of his face, "eighteen is the legal age to drink in Quebec, and I'm not asking Yakov. I'm asking  _you_. So drinking? I know a place."

Viktor rolled his eyes and threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. "It would be a waste if I didn't now that I know you have somewhere in mind." He ushered for Chris to walk ahead of him. "Lead the way."

They grinned at each other and made their way out of the stadium. Without exactly giving away where they were going, Viktor gave his bag to his coach and ran off to catch up with Chris before any questions could be asked. The freezing Quebec air hit him hard once they opened the doors to exit the stadium. Viktor zipped up his winter coat as far as he could as Chris led them down the busy streets. With snow covering everything, the scenery was beautiful to look at. He breathed in the fresh air as they made their way down the twists and turns of the sidewalks.

It took longer than he thought it would be, but Chris eventually pointed out the bar. The outside of it was... odd. It looked more like someone's house than a bar, with tall plants lining the sidewalk. He hesitated at the door before stepping in behind Chris, who took to one of the wooden stools up at the bar. The interior was about what he expected with a white ceiling and wooden walls. The bar was secured in the left corner of the room, pillars of wood boxing it in. To go along with the theme, every stool, chair and table was the same glossy wood. It was oddly cozy.

Viktor sat down next to his friend and watched as he exchanged a few words in French with the bartender. Viktor was good at French but was still studying it. He knew what he needed to get by during competitions. After Chris flashed his ID, he elbowed Viktor to do the same. Chris then prattled off drink orders for them, waiting until they got them before questioning Viktor's silent behavior.

"What gives?"

"Hm?" Viktor peered ice blue eyes over the rim of his drink as he took a sip from it, the alcohol burning a trail down his throat. Whatever Chris had ordered was too bitter for his taste, but he welcomed the burn anyway.

"Have you asked to see if it can be removed?"

"What?" It took Viktor a moment to realize what Chris was talking about. "Oh, the scar."

Chris nodded and held his drink up to his mouth. "Is it really scar? Can it be removed? You've wasted almost your whole life on it, but nothing's happened, right? Why bother?" Chris took a careful sip before studying Viktor for a reaction.

Viktor's arm flit to his forearm where the scar resided, practically feeling it pulse as they discussed it. "I don't think I want it removed. Even if it could be, I don't think I'd do it."

"Why not?" Chris crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, swirling his drink where he held it over the edge of the bar. "Seems like a waste of time to me."

Viktor shrugged in response. "Like I said I don't know. I feel attached to it in some weird way."

"What's there to be attached to? You're probably only saying that because you've had it almost your entire life. Otherwise I can't find reason in that." Chris raised the drink to his lips and tipped it back.

"You think so?" Viktor traced the scar through the long sleeves on his shirt idly. It's not like Chris would actually understand no matter how long he explained why he felt attached to it. He just... did. Viktor felt like it was more than just a blemish on his fair skin. It symbolized his connection to someone else. Words weren't enough to describe it.

Chris avoided the topic for the rest of the evening. They spent most of their time discussing the upcoming competition and their competitors while they dug into food Chris had suggested. The drinks made their way into their system's, making them feel the most relaxed they've felt since their planes landed. As they were heading out the door, Chris made it official that they had to meet up and share drinks together at every competition from that point on. Viktor agreed in a heartbeat, enjoying the time well spent with his close friend.

It was as the duo were heading back to the hotel that Viktor felt something. It was like his scar was buzzing with energy. he squinted in the evening light at his surroundings to see if he was missing something. That was when he caught the flash of her white lab coat. He paused in his steps and tried to find it again, but she was gone just as quickly as she appeared. Chris realized he wasn't following anymore and turned around to find Viktor walking towards the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He knew better than to stop him, so instead he followed silently.

Viktor glanced down side streets and alleyways only to come up short. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, following the sidewalk down as thought maybe the liquor was playing tricks on him. Someone he hadn't noticed before shoved past him, muttering a foreign language in response as they ran away. Viktor's eyes followed the figure, who wouldn't stop looking in every direction but forward as he ran along the sidewalk. His scar burned at the contact.

It was at the very age of twenty-one on a snow-covered sidewalk in Quebec City where his fifth Grand Prix Final was taking place that he unofficially met the person with a matching scar to his own.


	3. Kotae Wa Nai Deshô {There Isn't An Answer, Is There?}

"Yuuri, do you plan on waking up anytime soon? The mens practice group starts in an hour, and if you want good viewing seats, then I recommend you get up for the day. Viktor isn't going to wait for you." Minako snickered as Yuuri bolted out of the hotel bed and towards the showers.

She wished she could say it was almost time for his practice time on the ice. She used to love watching him skate and the way he did it with so much energy. It was like the ice was helping him breathe. He was good enough to compete, too.  _Very_ good for that matter. If only he kept to it, then maybe he could've skated on the same ice as Viktor one day. Maybe even stand up higher than him on the podium or at least next to him. That would've been a sight to see. Instead, here they were. Getting ready to see Viktor skate in person from the stands, a place she already expected to be in, but not with Yuuri beside her sitting down.

Yuuri came out from the bathroom moments later in a panic to get ready. Minako shook her head and stopped him, so she could dry his hair for him. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited impatiently for her to finish. Once she slid the towel away from his head, he hurriedly grabbed his phone from where it wa plugged in on the bedside table between their beds and the badges that were next to it. Yuuri beamed as he led the way out of their room. Minako laughed and followed him, watching as his pace began to pick up speed.

"If you don't slow down, I'm going to be tired by the time we get there."

"Like you said, we need good seats, so we have to hurry." Yuuri handed her one of the badges and held onto his own tightly, seeming younger to Minako than he really was.

"We're not running there if that's what you're thinking. I'm going to call a cab, so we'll have to wait in the lobby for a few minutes."

Yuuri groaned and threw his head back, hitting the button that would bring them the elevator. "You should've done that when I was in the shower."

Minako laughed again. "Relax, Yuuri. We have an hour, and it only takes ten minutes to get there by a cab. I think you can wait five for it to show up."

They hopped in the elevator once it arrived, hitting the button for the lobby before the doors shut. Besides the  _ding_ of the elevator passing every floor, the ride down was quiet. Yuuri was too lost in his thoughts to start a conversation, but Minako was intent on fixing that.

"Who do you think is going to medal this year along with Viktor?" She almost laughed once more as Yuuri began to talk about all the skaters' statuses, medal counts, and programs, taking into account the difficulty level they were able to achieve.

"Well, Christophe Giacometti is in the running again, so you know that he and Viktor are going to take first and second. His programs are pretty creative this season, so it'll be fun to watch him and Viktor go at it. The Italian skater, Michele Crispino, has a high chance of placing, but his skating is very..."

"He does have some talent, though." Minako quipped as Yuuri nodded his head in response.

"Yeah, but nothing that could challenge-"

"Viktor. You might be a  _little_ biased in your answers." She teased, sending him into a flurry of words that jumbled together to defend himself and Viktor's skating career. "Don't get me wrong, Yuuri. I drool for him too, and I'm  _much_  older than he is."

Yuuri's face burned brighter, but he laughed at Minako's expense. They walked into the lobby as the elevator reached it and the doors opened, Yuuri plopping down into one of the dark grey chairs that were seated in a circle around a matching table. Minako sat down next to him as she pulled out her phone and typed in the saved number. Yuuri watched her call the cab service before pulling out his own phone and trying to find any information about the skaters in this week's Final. Minako hung up right as he found an article summarizing all the events leading up to it.

"Anything interesting?"

Yuuri hummed. "Nothing I didn't already know."

"Of course not." Minako chuckled. They sat idly in the lobby, watching the different people come and go as they waited. Someone came around to ask if they wanted something to drink, but Minako assured them that they were fine. The energy only returned in Yuuri once Minako's phone lit up with an incoming call from the cab service. He stood up immediately and gazed at her with bright eyes and a smile to match.

"It's hard to believe you're eighteen." Minako murmured to herself before standing up and smiling back at him as they walked out the doors of the hotel and seated themselves in the white cab car. She rambled off the address of the stadium to the driver before turning to see Yuuri bouncing his knee in anticipation.

It was hard to sit still knowing that he was going to see his favorite skaters - specifically Viktor Nikiforov - in person. In less than an hour, Viktor would be dancing on the ice in front of him, skating his story this season right in front of him. It was  _unbelievable_.

What seemed to be the longest ride ever had come to an end, the cab stopping in front of the stadium. Yuuri stopped halfway out of the vehicle to stare at the stadium, Minako calling for him snapped him out of it. They flashed their tickets to security once they entered and made their way deeper into the stadium to find their seats. Once they broke through the entrance inside the seating around the rink, Yuuri stopped to stare at it. The cold of the arena hit him, feeling more at home than he thought he would. The arena wasn't filled, instead small groups of people were spread throughout. The thrum of the music pulsing in the stadium as skaters in the second to last group were pushing themselves around the ice. He grinned and ran to catch up with Minako, who had chosen seats down as far as they went.

"Thank you so much, Minako. This is...  _thank you_." He sat down next to her and couldn't look away from the ice, watching the skaters intently.

"I just wish I bought them to see you perform." She smiled sadly at him before following his gaze towards the ice.

"Minako..." Yuuri turned to look at her, biting his bottom lip and gnawing it in thought. Sure, it would've been amazing, but... he couldn't picture it. Standing on the same ice as Viktor.

They sat in silence for the rest of the hour, other than commenting here and there about how some of the skaters looked. That is, until it was time for the last group to go up. Yuuri leaned forward in his seat as he watched the bigger name figure skaters take to the ice, anticipating the moment Viktor would pass below him. It took a few minutes before the flash of silver he'd come to know so well became visible.

Viktor waved to the crowd as they cheered for his appearance, his eyes landing on Yuuri's briefly as he gave him the same hearty greeting. Yuuri was most likely imagining it considering how the rest of the stadium seemed to favor the Russian skater.

Minako all but fainted when Chris came up behind Viktor, the two of them chatting away on the ice. Yuuri tried to watch the rest of the skaters when they started playing their music for their programs, but his eyes always left them for Viktor, who was lazily gliding around the rink. It was common for skaters to skip out on practicing their programs during the first practice, but Yuuri found himself missing the sound of Viktor's music when they didn't even play it. Yuuri also noticed that Viktor didn't try any jumps besides singles, probably testing his landings. Yuuri clung to every moment of his skating like a lifeline, refusing to look away even as an hour had passed and the skaters began to leave the ice so it could be resurfaced. When Minako tapped on his shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin.

"Want anything? I'm going to grab something to eat." She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the exit.

Yuuri debated whether or not he should go for a few seconds before shaking his head. "I'll get something later. I'm not really hungry." He turned back to the ice once Minako got up to leave. He could feel her gaze trained on him before the feeling disappeared with her.

Viktor was still hanging around the rink, and Yuuri didn't want to miss a second of it.

.

. . .

.

**Phichit "The...                                                                                                                                                         CALL              MORE**

**0624356524**

 

**P: Sooo how was it?**

**Istg if you don't tell me he made out with you ill be disappointed**

**Yuuuuuurrrrriiiii?! 7:43 pm**

 

**7:47 pm     You and i both know that woudnt happen :Y**

**ever**

 

**P: pssh idk about that**

**ill make sure i bring this up when im giving the best man speech at your wedding 7:47 pm**

**7:48 pm      who said id let you :Y**

**P: who said i cared if you would**

**also im hurt you wouldnt make me your best man**

**you hit me where it hurts yuuri 7:50 pm**

**7:52 pm    should i feel sympathetic? :Y**

**bc i dont**

**P: ouch**

**no but srsly how was it**

**is he as hot as he is in all those posters you have? 7:54 pm**

**7:55 pm     this is why im not giving you the chance to speak at my wedding :Y**

**P: so we agree that you two will get married :) 7:58 pm**

**7:59 pm    blocked :Y**

**P: no wait!**

**im dying over here with curiosity**

**that and im bored since you left me here by myself**

**at least seung gil down the hall will listen to me complain about you**

**ditching me 8:01 pm**

**8:05 pm     hes a god                                  :Y**

**everything he does is perfect**

**i could die happily after today**

**P: not yet**

**remember the wedding 8:08 pm**

**8:11 pm    i cant wait to see him compete!                                                                  :Y**

**he didnt run through anything today but seeing him skate live was**

**incredible im so happy minako got these tickets i bet if i reached down**

**from the stands i couldve touched him**

**P: just throw yourself into his arms 8:14 pm**

**8:15 pm      goodnight :Y**

**P: Lolol**

**ill be good this time i promise 8:17 pm**

 

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**.**

**. . .**

**.**

"I hope Viktor competes the best he's ever competed because I'm exhausted." Minako yawned and leaned back into the seats the arena offered, crossing her arms and watching as the last warm-up group was on the ice. They had spent all day watching the ladies then the ice dancing and before the mens portion had started up, the pairs. Yuuri had been more than excited to watch every event and insisted that Minako stay to watch with him.

"Of course he will. He's never given up a competition before." Yuuri was enraptured by the tension in the air as the skaters finished their warm-up. He watched as the skaters threw their representative jackets on, all except the beginning performer. The first skater up had messed up one of his jumping passes, bringing his score down a considerable degree. The second skater had gone through his short program flawlessly, but it lacked the excitement the competitor before him had, making his PCS suffer. The third skater up was Christophe Giacometti. Yuuri laughed when he saw Minako brighten up and even so much as yell out good luck to the skater. Christophe threw a wink to the crowd, making her melt in her seat. Yuuri was embarrassed to watch most of it, instead focusing on how Viktor was standing off to the side cheering on his friend and rival.

When Chris left the ice, received his season best score from the Kiss & Cry, and walked off with his coach, Viktor gave him a pat on the back. It looked like the two exchanged a few words before they both headed back under the stadium's seating in different directions. There was only one more skater before Viktor came on, Cao Bin from China. He wasn't someone Yuuri knew a lot about, but he knew enough to watch his performance and know that Viktor had a very high chance of winning.

Yuuri kept his eyes on the ice, not once looking away even as Cao Bin received his score. Viktor stepped onto the ice, talked with his coach in what seemed to be a lighthearted manner before pushing off the wall as his name was announced.

If only Yuuri had a shred of the confidence Viktor wore proudly everywhere. Maybe then he wouldn't have minded stepping onto the ice and fearing his scar would show itself to everyone. Viktor was so carefree, yet so serious as he skated. It was the kind of skater Yuuri wished he could be, which is probably why Yuuri clung to Viktor's skating like a lifeline. Viktor was everything he wished he could be.

Minako cheered once more, now leaning forward like Yuuri was. Yuuri sucked in a breath and waited as Viktor posed for the start of his program. It seemed like a lifetime before the music finally started, and Viktor kicked up ice in a flurry as he swept through movements that seemed to be a part of him. Every spin and turn was elegant, yet passionate as Viktor glided from one corner of the ice to the next. He fell out of his triple-axel-triple-toe-loop combination but managed to save it as best as he could.

The disappointment was plain as day on his face once he had finished, but he didn't let it stay long. He bowed to the judges and the crowd before sliding over to his coach and making his way to the Kiss & Cry. The score was about what Yuuri and apparently Viktor had expected.

Like every time before, it was the worst time. Yuuri's scar glowed underneath his long-sleeve sweater, sending a pang of... disappointment?... through him. Yuuri's eyes left Viktor to gaze down at the scar, finding himself wrapping an arm around it instinctively. When he looked up again, Minako was practically falling out of her seat, squinting at Viktor.

"What's wrong?" Worriedly, Yuuri turned to find Viktor waving to the crowd as usual, nodding to something his coach had said to him.

"I thought..." she looked over at where the scar rested on Yuuri's forearm, "I'm going crazy. Forget it."

"You're only realizing that now?" Yuuri teased as Minako scowled and punched his arm lightly.

Yuuri tried to ignore every look Minako shot between him and Viktor but found his mind still swimming with questions. She seemed to give up on whatever it was within a few minutes.

Once the last skater had finished, Viktor found himself in third behind Christophe and Michele. If he was a normal competitor, Yuuri would've been a little worried for Viktor, but Viktor was always able to come back with his FS.

Since the events for the day were over, Yuuri walked next to Minako as they made their way out of the stadium. "Viktor will win. I know he will. He has the strongest FS out of everyone here. He's already perfected it, and it's only the GPF! He has to win."

"Hey, Yuuri."

Yuuri turned to look up at Minako, finding her staring straight ahead.

"Do you know who the other person is?"

"Other person...?" Yuuri had to think about what she meant for a moment before it clicked. "I wouldn't even know how to..." he mumbled off as he kicked a pebble along the sidewalk. "Do you?"

The ballerina sighed. "I don't know, but I guess if you don't know then I wouldn't. I thought I saw... Nevermind. You'd feel it if you found them."

Yuuri thought about her words, spinning them back in forth in his mind carefully.  _You'd feel it if you found them._ Had she seen something? Maybe that's why he felt the pain he did earlier. Maybe the person was nearby and Minako had seen it. Or maybe he's thinking too hard about it. It couldn't hurt to ask, right? "Minako, what did you see?"

She gazed down at him, stopping in her tracks. Yuuri stopped walking as well, standing a few feet in front of her as people began filtering around them. "I don't know what I saw. It was faint, and I could've just been seeing things..."

"Minako, what did you see?" Yuuri pressed for an answer, his eyes widening at the possibility of knowing who's pain he was feeling.

"Yuuri, I don't-"

"Please."

"Let's get back to the hotel. It's late, and you're probably hungry from not eating most of the day. We can order room service if you want."

"That's okay. You can go on ahead. I think I'll walk around a bit more." Yuuri spun on his heels and walked briskly in the other direction. He could see that she wanted to protest against it, but she didn't say anything more as he left.

She knew something and didn't plan on sharing. It was aggravating to Yuuri. Shouldn't he get to hear anything regarding the odd mark on his forearm? Why was everyone keeping secrets from him? He found himself wanting the seas of Hasetsu more than anything. It had only been a few months since he's seen them, but he was homesick.  _If Yuuko was here, she'd know how to help._

Yuuri tried to shove down his thoughts, hoping the cool air would work. He was so hung up on trying to push everything out of mind that he was longer paying any attention to where he was walking. Even the chatter from the people in front of him couldn't snap him out of it. Yuuri ended up walking straight into someone, sending him stumbling back a few steps as he tried to figure out what just happened. His arm stung with the familiar blue glow as he crashed into the person. A voice with an accent began apologizing to him, but Yuuri bowed and apologized instead, saying it was his fault not the others. It wasn't until he looked that he realized what he had done.

 _The_ Viktor Nikiforov was standing before him. His coach began yelling for him to hurry up as the two locked eyes. "Are you alright?"

Words were a jumbled mess on the tip of his tongue, preventing him from saying anything comprehensible. Viktor laughed at that.

"Well, I'm very sorry I didn't see you sooner. I wasn't paying attention, and now look where we are. Is your arm alright? I think it took most of the impact. Here, let me see." Viktor made to reach for his left arm, the very arm the scar was resting on.

Yuuri yanked his arm to his chest, cradling it there before smiling weakly. "I-I'm fine. Excuse me." Yuuri tried to sidestep around him, but Viktor grabbed his shoulder. Without thinking, Yuuri quickly shoved his arm off before hurrying down the yellow-lit sidewalk. He didn't dare look back, instead taking on a faster pace and ducking into the first alley he could. He leaned back against the bricks of the building on one side of the alley, trying to slow down his heartbeat. He had just stupidly crashed into Viktor Nikiforov,  _and_ rudely ran away from him. Viktor had almost seen his scar, almost looked at the hideous thing with his own eyes. It was bad enough that too many people had seen it already, family or friends, but for  _Viktor Nikiforov_ to see it would've been the biggest embarrassment yet.

Yuuri slid down the wall until he was sitting on the cobblestones, his head tucked between both legs as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 _This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't-_ Yuuri took deep breaths, inhaling as deeply as he could like it was his last breath of air.  _Not here. Not now._ It took him a countless number of minutes, but it wasn't much darker out when he finally looked up from the ball he made himself into. Yuuri relaxed as the buzz of the streetlights seemed to be the only noise in the area. He collected himself and stood up, taking a peek from the alley into the street just to make sure no one else was around. When he deemed it all clear, he stepped out of the alley, heading back the way he came and glancing nervously around as he walked.

Rather than the familiarity of his home in Japan, now all he wanted was the soft sheets of his hotel bed that could lull him to sleep.

.

. . .

.

Getting back to the hotel had taken a longer time than he thought it would. It was almost one a.m. when the doors to the lobby slid open, allowing him entrance into the heated space. Yuuri unravelled the scarf around his neck, welcoming the heat that could thaw him out. It got a lot colder here than it ever did during the winter time in Hasetsu, he noted.

Yuuri was going to head for the elevator when the sound of an all-too-familiar voice beat him there to it. Yuuri froze in his steps with wide eyes as he heard the very person he didn't want to see right now.

"Chris, I'm not going crazy."

"Are you sure you aren't just seeing things because you want to?"

"No, the mark was obvious. When have I ever lied to you?"

"Remember our first banquet together? You said they were fun, and you always had  _so much-"_

 _"_ Alright, besides that one time."

"Well, there was that other time you said it would be a great idea if I convinced Yuri you were-"

"Okay, so I've lied a few times, but would I lie about something like this? When I'm so obsessed with finding the answers for myself?"

"I suppose not. Hm?"

Yuuri squeaked and threw himself behind the pristine white wall that blocked him from  _Christophe Giacometti's_ eyesight. This wasn't happening. Yuuri refused to believe. Viktor and Christophe were  _not_ talking together in the one hotel Yuuri so happened to be staying at as well.  _They couldn't be staying here. Right?_ There was no way. It wasn't possible. The odds weren't  _that_  against him.

"What's wrong, Chris?"

"I think you've got a fan." Chris's voice held a humor that had Yuuri's heart jackhammering in his chest.

The elevator  _dinged_ as it reached the first floor. Yuuri hoped -  _wished_ \- that the duo would just hop into it and forget about him, but of course nothing was going to be easy for him tonight. Footsteps echoed as they approached where Yuuri was hiding, his mind trying to come up with a decent escape plan. His eyes landed on the staircase, and he bolted for them, hoping to grab the elevator after the skaters had used it. He was halfway up the first flight and almost around the corner out of sight when Viktor called out to him.

"It's you again."

Yuuri cringed and tried to make a push for the rest of the last remaining steps, but Viktor kept him planted where he was.

"I'm really sorry for what happened earlier. I didn't mean to scare you either. Is there any way I can make it up to you? Maybe lunch?"

"No thanks."

"Wait! What's your name?"

"I uh... have to go. It's really late."

Yuuri bolted for the top, ignoring whatever Viktor tried to yell up at him. Despite how persistent he was, Viktor didn't try to catch up to Yuuri, who was grateful for that. He reached for the elevator on the second floor, letting the carriage take him up to the floor he was staying at. He practically ran to his room, careful not to make a lot of noise that would annoy everyone else staying there. Once he reached his room, he fumbled to find the key card in his jacket pocket, relieved when he finally pulled out the plastic and slid it through the door. He shut the door behind him quietly, since it seemed like Minako was asleep and headed for the bathroom.

Yuuri leaned against the sink counter, wondering how he'd gotten to the point in his life where he was avoiding Viktor Nikiforov as best as he could. It was odd to not want to see the one person that inspired him to keep going no matter how tough any situation was. He was avoiding his very idol. If Minako heard about what had happened she would've killed Yuuri or made him introduce her. Both were terrifying options. Splashing water onto his face, Yuuri hoped the water could get rid of everything that happened, even though it was  _very_  unlikely. Instead of getting changed into something more suitable to sleep in, he flicked his coat off and threw himself under the sheets on his bed, wanting sleep more than anything.

His active mind refused to give him that, though. His thoughts reeled about Viktor. Thirteen year-old Yuuri would've yelled at him for giving up the chance to have lunch with Viktor. Eighteen year-old Yuuri was grateful that he had managed to escape. For now. There was still one more day of competition and one for the closing ceremony and gala. That meant two more days of living in the same hotel as Viktor and Christophe. Two more days where they could cross paths again.

As long as he was careful, he could avoid him.

_This will be easy. Besides, we've already been here for more than a week, and I just saw him today. He's busy with practices anyway. We won't see each other again. This will be it._

Somehow, he was discouraged by his last two thoughts. He figured it was the lack of sleep that made him think that because there was no way that embarrassing himself in front of Viktor was okay and that he actually wouldn't mind doing it again. That would be  _humiliating_ , yet here he was hoping for another day or two in Canada with the World Champion figure skater.

Yuuri flipped sides, hoping to get comfortable and relax into sleep, but it proved to be fruitless.

He tried to focus on things that made him happy. Movie marathons with Phichit, his family, ballet lessons with Minako, talking with Yuuko at the rink, watching Viktor skate-

It was a long time before sleep actually crept up on Yuuri.

.

. . .

.

"You look more nervous than the skaters." Minako poked at Yuuri's ribs, hoping to distract him from whatever it was that occupied his mind. "Did you even sleep last night?"

"Uhh... I think so? I'm fine. Really." Truth be told, he felt less than fine. For no reason at all, Yuuri had his eyes peeled for any sign of platinum hair even though he knew Viktor would be practicing or out with a friend before the competition started rather than be at the rink watching every possible competition that was going on before his own. The less saner portion of his mind told him that Viktor was waiting for him to show up, so he could try to talk to Yuuri.

"Uh huh,  _sure_. I wasn't born yesterday, Yuuri. Why do you look like someone is about to attack you? Did anything happen last night when you were out?"

Yuuri knew that she had no idea and was asking with the best intentions in mind, but he froze up anyway. Minako caught it and crossed her arms.

"Spill. I want to know everything. Your mom won't be happy with me if her little boy was injured because I let him walk around on his own in a foreign country."

"It's nothing! I promise." Yuuri frantically waved his hands around, hoping she would just drop the subject.

It wasn't until they were seated in the arena that Yuuri finally calmed down. His heart rate only sped back up when Viktor showed up with Chris and a few of the ice dance pairs to sit in the part of the stands closed off to the rest of the audience. He immediately averted his eyes back to the ice, hoping that Viktor wouldn't see him despite how low the odds were to begin with. Shrinking down into his seat, Yuuri tried to distract himself by watching the ladies free skate that was soon to start. Although he looked to be studying the skaters intently, his mind was solely focused on Viktor.

Viktor had seen his scar. What did he think of it? He pulled away pretty fast, so maybe Viktor hadn't really seen it. That thought helped him a little, but his conversation with Christophe sent him reeling. Viktor mentioned a mark. It was self-centered of him to think that they were talking about his scar, but it didn't seem so far off either.

He shook his head fiercely, garnering another look from Minako but no more questions. As casually as possible, he snuck a look at Viktor only to meet his ice blue eyes.  _Self-centered_ , he scolded himself. Viktor was just scanning the audience. If Yuuri was a competitor himself, then he would've been doing the same thing. Out of fear, of course, but still the same motion.

"I'll be back, Minako." Without letting her get a word in, Yuuri got up from his seat and headed to the main hallway. Watching the competition wasn't helping, so maybe a walk would.

Yuuri tried walking in the opposite direction of where Viktor's section was. That proved fruitless moments later.

"Hey, wait!"

Yuuri made the mistake of turning around, his eyes going wide as he spotted the silver Russian jogging in his direction. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sped up his pace. It was frustrating how his idol always seemed to be around despite the very slim odds. People would kill to be in his position right now. It felt surreal to actually been running from Viktor for the third time is less than a day.

"Please wait! I just want to talk to you!"

Thankfully, people around him started to notice Viktor and began whispering. Whispering soon turned into cheering as people began to swarm him for autographs. He could hear Viktor struggle to get away from them, but his attempts were in vain.

Running into a bathroom, he headed into one of the stalls and slammed the door shut as he tried to stop his hammering heart.

Why was this happening? He was supposed to be enjoying this trip, not trying to avoid the events. If only he had paid attention to where he was going when he went from a walk around the city. Maybe then... Stupid. He was stupid beyond belief. It was his fault that this started, and now here he was, hiding out in a bathroom stall as the very thing he wanted to see for himself one day was going on. He couldn't let this preside over this trip. No. He wouldn't let that happen.

Only after carefully listening for Viktor did he leave the stall and the bathroom, his pace brisk but not tiring. He would go back and sit with Minako,  _not_ look for Viktor. He was here in Canada to watch the competition, not run away from it. This could be easy.

Or at least he hoped so. That's all he could as for at this point.

By the time he made it back to his seat, the competition had already started and Minako was already invested in it, prattling off skater's names and scores and which she thought would end up first. For what felt like the hundredth time that week alone, Yuuri found himself mentally exhausted.

The ladies' free skate competition passed by without anymore surprises. The mens free skate was about to begin, and Yuuri couldn't keep his eyes off the ice. With the days event's behind him, he was able to finally enjoy the competition like he had originally wanted to. Since there was only six competitors, it didn't take long for the competition to be in full swing. Having ended up third, Viktor was up in no time. The program he had for his free skate was a particularly hard one, but it focused more on the presentation. The choreography took on a softer side than his short program had, giving the audience the feeling of a love just out of reach. Every second of it was stunning to watch. Having landed all his jumping passes, Viktor stood in his final pose with a bright smile across his face. He bowed to the audience as they roared their approval.

Yuuri clapped along with everyone else, leaning forward and squinting at the screen as it replayed all of his jumps and difficult choreography. Silence filled the arena as the music stopped and the screen showed Viktor sitting in the Kiss & Cry, waiting on bated breaths for his score.

"May I have the scores please?"

Yuuri watched as Viktor clasped both hands together and leaned forward in his seat.

"The Free Skate score for Viktor Nikiforov of Russia... 183.67. New seasons best. He is currently in first place."

The crowd erupted at the score, and Viktor threw his head back laughing, almost in tears at the numbers.

Yuuri cheered loudly, knowing that no matter how anyone else here did, they wouldn't be able to beat him.

.

. . .

.

Lo and behold, Viktor ended up in first with Chris in second and Michele following up with third. The competition had ended an hour ago, and Yuuri and Minako made their way back to the hotel to rest up for the next day's Gala.

Minako threw herself onto her hotel bed once they had made it back. "I'm exhausted."

"I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be back soon." Yuuri walked in the room behind her and grabbed his phone charger from the wall. He wanted nothing more than to talk to Phichit. Maybe he had some sort of decent advice to give.

"Don't be out too late tonight. You look like you could use the rest more than me."

"I won't. I promise." Yuuri swiped his key card to the room off the nightstand and tucked it in his pocket, shutting the door behind him as he left the room.

Heading to the lobby on his floor, he rang for Phichit as he walked.

"Answer, Phichit. C'mon..." Yuuri sat down in one of the plush chairs set up in the lobby and perked up once his phone started connecting the call. "Finally!"

 _"What happened now?"_ Phichit leaned into his phone's screen.

Yuuri hesitated before answering. "I keep seeing him everywhere now... I just want this trip to be over."

_"If the Yuuri I know and love heard that he'd kick you all the way back to Japan. What's wrong anyway? I thought you would've loved to talk to Viktor? What happened?"_

"Well..." Yuuri dug his teeth into his bottom lip. "I kind of embarrassed myself by running into him and then taking off when he almost saw the scar..."

_"That's what you're so worried over? Are you sure that's not fate throwing you two at each other because it's sick of both of your pining?"_

"Phichit! I am not  _pining_!"

Phichit cackled at Yuuri from his end of the line.  _"Are you sure? Sounds like pining to me."_

Yuuri's cheeks burned bright red at his friend's teasing. "It is not, and you are  _not_ helpful!"

_"You know you love me."_

"Not right now."

_"Stubborn."_

"Annoying."

_"Hey, I'm pretty-"_

"It's you! Hi!"

Yuuri blanched when he looked up from the screen on his phone to see Viktor leaning towards him. Eyes going wide, Yuuri covered his mouth and leaned back into the chair he was sitting in.

_"Yuuri, who's that?"_

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your phone call." Viktor laughed.

"V-Viktor... Nikiforov..."

 _"Ohoho, is that_ the  _Viktor I've been hearing about? Yuuri, introduce me!"_

Yuuri silently wished for his friend's death as Viktor leaned in closer towards Yuuri.

"Ah! Your name is Yuuri? There's a junior skater who trains at the same rink as me named Yuri! He's a lot less shy than you are, though." Viktor placed a finger over his mouth and then brightened, reaching a hand out towards Yuuri. "I'm Viktor, by the way. You probably already know since I saw you at the rink earlier, but I figured it was rude to not introduce myself. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Yuuri!"

Yuuri desperately looked between Phichit and Viktor, begging with his eyes for Phichit to help. Instead of doing anything in the least bit helpful, Phichit waved goodbye and ended the call. He was going to feel Yuuri's wrath later. Reluctantly, he put his phone down in his lap and put his own hand in Viktor's.

Viktor smiled and pushed the sleeve up on Yuuri's arm to reveal the scar hidden underneath. Yuuri immediately pulled his arm back, slinking back into the chair while cradling his arm in his lap with eyes shut tightly. "You have it, too! I knew it!"

"Too?" Yuuri hesitantly lifted his gaze back up to Viktor, confused and still stricken with embarrassment. "What do you mean...?"

"I'll show you." Viktor pulled off his Russian Skating Federation jacket and slung it over his luggage, then reaching for the sleeve on his black training shirt and rolling it up to reveal a matching scar to Yuuri's own. "See? I have it, too. It's a pleasure to meet you, Yuuri."

Yuuri leaned forward and with shaking hands, reached to touch the scar. "What... How did you...?"

"I don't know. She won't tell me."

"She?" Yuuri looked up with even more confusion. "Who's-"

"I'll tell you all I know later." Viktor rolled his sleeve back down and slipped his jacket back on. "I'm very grateful I finally got to meet you, Yuuri. You have no idea how long I've waited to finally meet you."

"I-I have to go." Yuuri quickly stood up and rushed to leave, his mind turned to mush because of the new information. It was too much.  _Way_ too much.

"Wait!" Before Viktor could reach for Yuuri, a voice resounded through the lobby stopping both of them in their tracks.

"Congratulations. You've finally found each other, both without knowledge of what you're going to experience. Didn't I tell you you'd find out eventually, Viktor? Results come from time well spent."

"Ms. Urushibara." Viktor sneered the name, dragging Yuuri's attention back to him. "Ah, yes. However can I thank you for making me wait a whole thirteen years for this moment?"

"You can thank me by checking your wrists."

Doing as she said, they both gazed down to find their arms glowing a familiar blueish white with a bright blue band floating around their wrists. The words "Mission 1" circling around with the blue ring.

"What is this?" Yuuri froze, hoping he was actually unconscious and this was some crazy dream.

"What game are you playing at? What is this? Mission 1?" Viktor angrily dropped his wrist, searching the lobby for the source of the voice only to find it empty besides them.

"Mission 1: Self Introductions. Self explanatory I assume. Together, you two will have to clear missions."

"And the point of those missions are...?"

Yuuri noted that Viktor's change had been abrupt. From him kindly introducing himself to Yuuri to irritated in an instant. Whoever this "Urushibara" was, Viktor did not like that. That sparked new nerves in Yuuri. If Viktor didn't like whoever was in charge of this, then there was no way he was going to. He gulped as he looked down at the scar and the words around his wrist.

"A dear friend of mine believed that understanding would lead to happiness. The only way to understand one another was to be open. The missions are to help you come to understand one another."

"Is the whole point of these," Viktor held up his arm for emphasis, "just for understanding? What happens if we don't complete the missions?"

"I'd prefer if you completed them. There are methods I'd rather not invest in, and you'll thank me later for doing so. Your turn."

"Thanks for the great answer. Glad I asked." Viktor rolled his eyes before turning to Yuuri with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry, Yuuri."

Yuuri glanced up at Viktor, frightened by all that was going on. "I-It's alright! It's not your fault!"

Viktor grimaced and sat down, the excitement from earlier gone so easily.

"So uh... introductions, right?" The blue ring around their wrists disappeared, leaving them to themselves.

"Shouldn't be too hard." Viktor's smile brightened just a bit as Yuuri sat down hesitantly in the armchair next to his. "I guess I'll start. I'm Viktor Nikiforov from Saint Petersburg, Russia. I'm twenty-one years old and currently the number one male figure skater in the world."

Yuuri took a deep breath, waiting to wake up sometime soon to Phichit yelling in his ear. "I-I'm Yuuri Katsuki from Hasetsu, Japan. I'm eighteen years old and enrolled in college in Detroit, Michigan."

"You live in Japan, but you moved to Detroit for college? Interesting."

"Oh well..." Yuuri shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wanting nothing more than to flee.

"Not enough." The lady that Viktor called Urushibara yelled above them. "I thought you'd be smarter than this, Viktor. Are self introductions really that easy? In order to fully come to understand the other, is just your name and a brief description of who you are read from Wikipedia enough? Delve deeper. Think harder."

"Alright, alright." Viktor faced Yuuri and leaned forward with both hands on his knees. "My parents weren't supportive of figure skating, saying that it was too tough to get into and costly. They began caring when I won dozens of smaller competitions and then became junior champion twice in a row, but that was only because they realized I was winning money."

Yuuri stared at Viktor with wide eyes. Were they supposed to share stories of that extent? "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. You haven't done anything. It's water under the bridge." Viktor dismissed it with a wave of his hand and then sat patiently, awaiting Yuuri's real answer.

"Oh uh... I um... I used to skate but stopped when I was fourteen because I didn't want anyone to see the scar... It's dumb I know." Yuuri's face turned crimson as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Yuuri, that isn't dumb at all. You did what you thought was right and didn't let anyone stop you. That's quite a decision to make on your own at that age. You should be proud."

Yuuri looked up to find Viktor smiling at him. Despite not entirely knowing him at all, Yuuri found the smile contagious, giving a small one back in return.

"How touching." The blue rings around their wrists returned, only with the word congratulations written across it this time. "That wasn't perfect, but it was better than your first attempt. We'll leave it at that for today. Get some rest you two. You're going to need it for the missions to come."

"Ah, Yuuri. Let me give you my number. With you in America and me traveling all the time for competitions, meetings may come far and few between. I'd like to stay in contact with you if you'd allow me."

"S-Sure, of course."

They quickly exchanged numbers, and Viktor stood up from his seat. "Well, Yuuri Katsuki. I can't wait to see this journey through with you. I hope to see you at the Gala tomorrow."

Yuuri said nothing as he watched Viktor disappear down the lobby and in the elevator to the floor he was staying in. Meanwhile, Yuuri leaned back into the cushions and threw his head back, trying to gain his breath back from all that happened. How was he supposed to go through with this? Missions? He could hardly tell his sister, parents, or Minako how he felt on a normal day. How was he going to reveal everything about himself to someone he thought of highly and kept them on a podium? Viktor Nikiforov probably wished he wasn't apart of... whatever this was... right about now. There was no way he was going to be happy being attached to Yuuri in the way that they were.

At the age of eighteen, Yuuri became more confused about the odd scar than he ever had been before, not knowing what was to come on the journey he would be forced to go through.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting updates on new chapters at my tumblr @lizanna-writes  
> Feel free to check it out if you want to or message me if you're curious about something!


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